


28. Fire

by TheMagicWord



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Future Fic, OT5, but near future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 07:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17741411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMagicWord/pseuds/TheMagicWord
Summary: My greatest dream is that they'll one day go back to the bungalow and sort all their shit out. So I wrote a bit about it.





	28. Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Rather than doing NaNoWriMo* this year, I decided to write a 500-ish word drabble every day. Various pairings and some requests.
> 
> * Wow, did I fail on the NaNo thing, but I'm going to write 30 anyway... eventually

“Fuck,” Louis said. “I really didn’t think he’d come.” 

“It’s definitely his car,” Liam said from the window where he’d been watching out while pretending not to. 

Louis didn't know how Liam was familiar with whatever Zayn was currently driving and he wasn't about to ask. He looked around for Harry, but he was presumably still out the back. He thought about going up to their room, pretending he had to get something from his bag, unpack, take a shit, anything, but he knew everyone would see through it so he stayed put. 

Liam opened the door and stepped outside. Louis heard his cheerful “Hiya, mate!” and smiled to himself. Liam was always so Liam. That was something, at least. 

And then Zayn was there and already looking over at Louis. His stomach swooped and he crossed the room and pulled him into a hug. 

“Fuck,” Louis said, against Zayn’s neck. 

He’d thought about this a lot over the last few years. He’d pictured himself yelling at Zayn, even punching him, but now that he was here-- 

Zayn’s arms wrapped around Louis’s back and he squeezed. He felt thin, Louis thought. He was always thin, but he felt thinner. But then Louis was too. Maybe they all were. 

Zayn pulled away first - of course he did - and then seemed to be waiting for Louis to say something. 

“Hey,” Louis said, eventually. 

Zayn nodded, but didn’t speak. 

“Niall and Haz are out the back,” Louis said. His voice sounded weird. Weak and thready. 

“Lighting the fire?” Zayn said, his mouth quirking into a half-smile. 

“Yeah actually,” Louis said. 

“Wouldn’t be right without the fire,” Liam said, glancing between them. “Have you got bags?” 

“In the car.” Zayn looked around the small front room, an unreadable expression on his face, his eyebrows pinched in concentration. 

“I’ll get them,” Liam said, holding his hand out for Zayn’s keys. 

Louis couldn’t believe Liam was leaving him alone with Zayn, he’d specifically said-- 

“So you and Harry are still…” Zayn asked, frowning at Louis. 

“Yeah, of course,” Louis said. “Always.” He looked in the direction of the garden. He didn’t know what Harry was going to think about this. “And you?” he asked. “Still with Gigi?” 

Zayn shrugged. “On and off. You know.” 

Louis didn’t know. He and Harry had been very much on since the last time they were all at the bungalow. 

“Fuckin’ weird to be back here,” Zayn said. 

Some of the tightness in Louis’s chest loosened as he laughed. “Right?” 

“I feel like a different person. Like it was a different life.” 

Louis got it. But he didn’t feel like that. The bungalow felt like the start of everything good in his life. 

“Want to go outside. See how they’re getting on with the fire?” 

There was a burst of cold air as Liam opened the front door and dropped Zayn’s bags on the floor. 

“Bloody hell, mate. How long you staying?” 

Zayn grinned at him. “Going to my mum’s after this. 

He turned back to Louis. “I was really sorry to hear--” 

Louis shook his head. “Yeah. Thanks. That’s…” He’d never been sure if Zayn had got in touch after his mum had died. He thought maybe he had - had a vague memory of a text message or a voicemail even - but everything had been such a blur. Maybe he hadn’t after all. 

“I brought tequila,” Zayn said, unzipping a huge brown leather bag and pulling out a bottle. 

“Oh shit.” Liam grinned and bumped Zayn’s shoulder. 

Louis wished he could have that kind of ease with Zayn, but he just couldn’t imagine it. Liam was such a labrador. 

  
  


Outside the fire was burning high and bright. Harry and Niall were standing on the other side of it, both holding beers, laughing. 

Louis saw Harry’s face freeze when he spotted Zayn, but he recovered quickly, taking a short swig of his lager before coming around the fire and holding out his hand. Zayn shook it. No hug for Harry. But then Louis hadn’t expected one. Niall came round the fire the other way and slammed full-bodied into Zayn, slapping his back and sloshing lager through the air. 

“Fucks sake, Niall,” Louis said, mildly, shuffling past them to get to Harry and bumping him with his hip. It meant  _ I know  _ and  _ I’m surprised too  _ and  _ It’ll be okay  _ and  _ I love you.  _ Harry bumped back. 

They sat, they drank, Liam heated up some pizzas while the others laughed at him for still being Daddy fucking Direction after all these years. It was good. It was exactly the same and yet completely different. And much easier than Louis had ever imagined it could be. 

 

“He didn’t say sorry,” Harry said, later, in bed, arms up over his head, Louis looking up at him, chin on his chest. 

“Did you think he was going to?” Louis asked. “I didn’t think he was going to come at all.” 

Harry shrugged, dropping one hand to card through Louis’s hair. 

“We didn’t either,” Louis said, throat tight. “Say sorry, I mean. I think we could’ve too.” 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Probably.” 

“Maybe tomorrow.” 

“Maybe.” 

  
  



End file.
